


Regulus

by viciouswishes



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-01
Updated: 2004-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciouswishes/pseuds/viciouswishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regulus is a star in the heart of constellation Leo. It is know as the Queen of the Stars and is believed to heal the heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regulus

Fred hugged him before she grabbed her coat off the rack and said goodbye. Angel's hand lingered on the door as he closed it before he started to clean up the empty Chinese food containers. They'd left him all alone now, gone to their respective homes and lives. It'd been forever since they'd eaten dinner together as a…family.

 _A family full of lies._ Angel shoved the containers in the garbage. He knew what he'd done was for the best. Connor could live a happy, normal life, and not have to remember hell dimensions or the manipulation of Jasmine and Holtz.

He picked up the phone and dialed the hospital. The nurses' station expected his calls, one every day. Always with the same answer - _there's been no change._

*****

"The table and chairs should go there." Cordelia pointed to an empty alcove.

Angel shook his head. "And I need help arranging my furniture, why?"

"Well," she ran her arm across the back of a chair, "while you may have a gay man's taste in clothing, your furniture arrangement skills seem as dated as last year's fall colors. Who really thought maroon was going to be the new black?" She frowned at him impatiently. "So are you going to move it? I mean, you're the super strong one; I'm just vision girl."

He chuckled at her and pushed the table. Arching an eyebrow, he watched as she struggled with a heavy oak chair.

"Sometimes," she grunted, "I have to prove that I really don't need a man. Especially," her smile grew opposite Angel's scowl, "when I have a brooding vampire." She placed her hand on Angel's arm. "I believe someone promised me dinner."

"It's in the oven."

"What'd you make me?" Cordelia pulled out a chair and sat at the table as Angel took dishes out of the cupboards.

He set a plate in front of her and one for himself. "Lasagna. Homemade."

"You're eating?"

"Figured - since Wes isn't coming - that I wouldn't let the food go to waste." He filled her wine glass and then his own.

She smiled at the steaming food and dug in, telling him all about dealing with a particularly horrible client, despite that Angel was there when the man bitched to Cordelia about his problems with gooey baby demons. Looping the excess cheese around her fork, she bit down and smiled.

Angel reflected that grin with his own. "I take it that it's good."

She brought her napkin up to her mouth and swallowed. "Better than good. Angel, this rocks."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He sipped his wine.

Cordelia ate the rest of her lasagna in silence, watching Angel in fascination.

When he smiled at her, he hoped that he didn't have any flecks of oregano stuck between his teeth. He knew that she was watching out of curiosity; it wasn't exactly every day he decided to consume something that wasn't blood. As his fork picked up another noodle, he wondered where the food actually went. It wasn't like he had a human digestive system anymore. Wrinkling his nose, he pushed the thought away and looked back at Cordelia.

He was surprised to be okay with the silence. Sure, he spent plenty of time in it, but usually when he was around people, especially Cordelia, they talked non-stop. He supposed that the silence was natural; after all, they were still eating.

Placing his hand on her arm, he stopped her when she went to put her plate in the sink. "I'll get it."

"Okay." She happily sat back down in her chair. "A good cook and cleans the dishes? You might be the perfect man. Especially if there's dessert."

Angel saw a faint blush as she realized what she said. "It's not like I ever really have anyone over," he tried to brush off her comment, to ease her back into a stable dinner atmosphere. "Besides, I'm currently failing with the dessert part.

"Maybe you should invite me over more often." She finished her glass of wine. "And Wesley, of course," she added. "But you will have to purchase some sort of expensive chocolate to make up for the lack of dessert tonight."

Angel turned off the water, just wanting to give the dishes a quick rinse. "That'd be nice." He'd waited to wash them after she left. "So…"

"I should probably get going." Pushing her chair back, she stood up. "But thanks again for the dinner; it was marvelous."

For a moment, Angel was worried he'd done something to make her lose her confidence. _No,_ he shook his head, _this was Cordelia. She probably had a spa session with Dennis._

He felt better when she wrapped her arms around him to give him a hug, even made him smile again. When she pulled back, he caught her eye and dipped his head toward her, kissing her softly.

For a moment, she responded, but then moved from the embrace. "Angel…" She placed her hand against her lips at the memory of his touching hers. "No, we can't. Don't want you to go all evil on us, because really, I was there the last time." Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he saw her flinch at her words.

"It's okay."

"I need to go. Dennis is probably worried; you know how ghosts are." Without another look, she walked to the door and let herself out.

He gave her the day off work.

*****

In his penthouse on the top floor of Wolfram & Hart, Angel lay in bed, staring at the few stars that made it through Los Angeles' smog; he wondered if she was looking down at him. Funny, how he still thought of her…that way. Thought of what might have been if she'd kept kissing him. It couldn't be too hard to remove a gypsy clause; he was sure Wesley could find something in his books.

In his fantasy, he'd lost his soul over her. But he actually didn't know if he would have if the whole thing had been real. Of course, he'd also found his family again and healed. The family he'd lost again when he'd been re-souled.

Rolling over, he fluffed a pillow under his head, vowing not to look at the stars. She wasn't dead yet; and he needed to stop acting as if she was. He needed to go to the hospital and see her lying in that bed. To bring her fresh flowers and comb her hair. Because if she was actually watching him, she was probably yelling.


End file.
